


Perhaps Just Slightly Larger Than Average

by thundercaya



Series: Exterminator!Steve [2]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Background Relationships, Bugs & Insects, Gen, Past Relationship(s), Ride along
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thundercaya/pseuds/thundercaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don’t exactly have a line of people dying to hang out with me, so it means a lot that you’re here. If you want to see some scary bugs, I want to show you some scary bugs."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perhaps Just Slightly Larger Than Average

Mid-nineties alternative rock blared from Steve's stereo as he made the drive to his job site. All he had scheduled was a single wasp nest, and if nothing else came in he'd call it a good day. True, it could turn out that the wasps had toxic stingers or were just shy of immortal, but in Steve's experience, wasps in Night Vale weren't much different from wasps everywhere else, and Steve had a lot of experience.

Steve slowed down his truck when he spotted a figure in a lab coat having an animated discussion with someone in a mask next to Big Rico's. Carlos the scientist, arguing with an officer of the Sheriff's Secret Police. Steve knew better than most that arguing with local law enforcement was not a wise move by any definition. Neither was getting in the middle of such an argument, but Steve only ever claimed to be sane--never wise. He parked his truck and jogged over.

"Hey! Scientist!" he called as he approached. "There you are!"

Carlos and the officer both looked at him, Carlos confused, the officer's expression hidden. Steve couldn't blame they guy--they hadn't spoken very much despite how long Carlos had been in town now, and certainly not often enough to justify Steve running up to him in the street.

"Uh... hey," Carlos said. "You were, uh, looking for me?"

"Yes," Steve said. "I had a question. About science."

"Yeah?" Carlos prompted, not any less confused.

Steve wished he'd taken a moment to actually think of a question. "Well, uh... the moon," he said, figuring Carlos was used to fielding questions on the subject, thanks to Cecil. "Is... it... really made of cheese?"

"N-no," Carlos said. "It isn't. I, uh, would've thought you of all people would know that."

"Just wanted to be sure," Steve shrugged. "Thanks. And, uh, how are _you_?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Carlos said. "Except, uh, my lab got shut down. Temporarily." He looked to the officer watching them then back at Steve. "The, uh,  Secret Police are making sure that all my equipment is up to code. And if when they're done I seem to be missing anything, it probably wasn't ever there at all." The tone of his voice indicated that while he was repeating what the officer had told him, he didn't believe a word of it. "If I could just grab one thing I could work in the field today, but he won't let me in there even with an escort."

Though Steve's intention in initiating this conversation was merely to keep Carlos out of an altercation, he suddenly realized a way he could benefit both of them. He had been intrigued by Carlos from the moment he arrived--another outsider, someone interested in the things everyone else ignored--but because Cecil had been so quickly taken by the man, and had made no secret of it, Steve knew he couldn't pursue a friendship without it being construed as sabotage. However, now that Cecil and Carlos were securely involved in a relationship--well, it would read more like sabotage than ever. Still, having his teenage daughter be his only friend wasn't healthy for either one of them, so Steve was going to go for it.

"Well, maybe you can't run extensive tests and get really accurate data, but you could do some preliminary observations and not waste your entire day."

"Yeah?" Carlos asked. "Observations on what?"

Steve tapped the logo on his chest. "Night Vale pests."

"Oh!" Carlos said, eyebrows lifting with interest. "What kind of pests?"

Steve shrugged. "Rats, roaches, termites." He matched the scientist's tone from before. "Never anything out of the ordinary. But it's better than doing nothing, right?"

"Right," Carlos agreed, catching Steve's meaning. "I might as well."

"Great!" Steve said betraying more excitement than he meant to. He cleared his throat. "So... let's get going, yeah?"

***

"Do you like Alanis Morissette?" Steve asked as he and Carlos buckled in. "Of course you do." He started the truck and his music with it.

"Wow," Carlos said. "This song takes me back to high school."

"High school?" Steve repeated. "Holy shit, you're a child. I thought you were older."

"I get that a lot," Carlos said, ducking his head. "My hair...."

"Yeah, I feel that," Steve said. "I've been forty since I was twenty-five."

***

The wasps did appear to be normal, so Steve had Carlos wait in the truck while he took care of it, lest the scientist get stung unnecessarily. While waiting, Carlos absently opened Steve's glove box, sort of a bad habit of his in other people's cars. He found some napkins, a handgun, and a stack of CDs. Carefully avoiding the handgun, Carlos grabbed the CDs and flipped idly through them. His eyes widened.

"Oh my God, Selena."

***

"Well, I'm all done here," Steve said, climbing back into the truck. He froze, noticing that the music had been changed. He looked at Carlos who shrunk down a bit. Steve quickly braced his arm across the scientist's chest to hold him against the seat while he yanked open the glove box. Finding the gun still inside, he closed the compartment and released Carlos.

"Next time ask before going through my stuff, yeah?"

"Y-yeah," Carlos said. "Sorry. But you know, I could have a gun on me already."

"And I already do," Steve shrugged, buckling his seatbelt. "It's the principle of the thing. So you like Selena?"

The transition might have given Carlos whiplash if he weren't already used to how casual people in Night Vale were about their firearms.

"I'm Latino and I was born before 1990," he said.

"Fair enough. Only the good die young, huh?"

"Oh, don't," Carlos said. "I'm not up to feeling sad today."

"Think no more of it," Steve said.

***

Since he didn't have any other calls yet, Steve decided it was a good time to break for lunch. "Anywhere you want to go?" he asked. "My daughter made me lunch, so go on and take your pick."

"We don't have to go somewhere just for me," Carlos said.

"Well, do you want half my sandwich?" Steve offered. "I'm letting her stay with a friend tonight, so she made it extra big. Kids love you when you let them do stuff. Are you allergic to anything?"

"Blunt instruments," Carlos said.

"What? Oh. It's tapioca bread." Steve rolled his window down a crack and shouted "TAPIOCA BREAD!" to whoever might be listening outside.

"Um, sure," Carlos said. "What's in it?"

"Love," Steve said, reaching into the tiny backseat for his lunchbox. "But God knows what else. Sweet kid, but she's no Iron Chef."

***

They weren't very far into the enormously strange sandwich when Steve's work phone rang.

 "Oh, we've got something!" he said. He answered the phone and put it on speaker. "Steve Carlsberg."

" _Steve Carlsberg_ ," a woman said back. "It's Linda Muñoz. You've done work for me before?"

"Yes, uh..." He waved his hand to draw out the memory. "Ants, was it?"

"Yes, ants," Linda said. "They were gone a good while, but now they're back. Only, uh...."

"They're not the same kind?" Steve asked, trying to keep the eagerness from his voice.

"No. For one thing they're black. And for another.... Um.... They're sort of.... Uh...."

"Would you... say they're...huge?" Steve prompted.

"Certainly not!" Linda said, indignantly. "There's no such thing as huge ants! Perhaps just slightly larger than average, but definitely _not_ huge."

"Got it. Outside the house, then?"

"Yes," Linda said. "I'm also outside. I can't get to my front door."

"All right, just get out of there for now," Steve said. "I'll take care of it and bill you."

"How much?" Linda asked.

"Does it matter?"

"No. Damn you, Steve Carlsberg." Linda hung up.

"Solid." Steve looked at Carlos. "Looks like you're in luck."

"I would think you'd be less excited to get a more dangerous job," Carlos said.

"Well," Steve said, "I may or may not be looking forward to showing off a bit."

Carlos cleared his throat. "Uh, Steve...? I don't think I need to tell you that--"

"Is it some natural thing for attractive people to always think people are hitting on them?"

"To be fair, I'm not usually wrong," Carlos said, ducking his head, face flushed. "It's a useful heuristic."

"Well, whatever you might have heard about how awful I am, I don't go around hitting on people who're taken. Especially if they're taken by an ex. Besides, you're not my type."

"What _is_ your type?"

"Into me."

Carlos laughed. "Right. That's a good type."

"And unicorns are good pets, but have fun finding one. Listen, Carlos, I don't exactly have a line of people dying to hang out with me, so it means a lot that you're here. If you want to see some scary bugs, I want to show you some scary bugs. That's all."

"I appreciate that," Carlos said. "As for Cecil-- Well, I don't want to pry, but whatever it is that happened, have you tried apologizing?"

"Enough times that he really ought to get the point by now," Steve shrugged. "But he still thinks I'm just trying to get him to let up on me. Can't say I blame him, but as far as paying for mistakes goes, I think my interest rate is a little high."

"I could talk to him," Carlos offered.

"Oh, God, don't do that," Steve said. "He'll think that's why I wanted to hang out with you."

"The other option is he'll think you're trying to steal me away," Carlos reminded.

"Good point," Steve said. "By all means, talk to him."

***

Steve parked the truck in front of the butcher's shop. "All right, we'll need bait. Go in there and ask or five pounds of whatever's about to go bad."

"Why me?" Carlos asked.

"I'll pay you right back," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "They always tax me to hell and I want to see if I can avoid it."

***

Carlos sighed heavily as he climbed back into the truck.

"No such luck," he said, handing the receipt to Steve and plopping the wrapped up meat on the floorboard. "They told me the order 'reeks of Steve Carlsberg.'"

"It _reeks_ of old pork," Steve said. "Well, it was worth a shot." He pulled some money out of his wallet and handed it to Carlos. "Don't they know this just means I'll have to keep raising my rates?"

"Has anyone tried to stiff you on their bill?" Carlos asked.

"Sure, once in a while," Steve shrugged. "Then they have an emergency and I won't take care of it until they settle. They pay up on new jobs for a while, then eventually they try it again."

"What a pain in the ass."

"My life in one sentence. You're as smart as they say."

***

Steve parked a block down from the Muñoz home. "So this is how it's gonna go down," he said as he dug shotgun shells out of the back of his truck and handed them to Carlos. "We throw the meat into the yard and the ants will gather around it. We start picking them off with our shotguns. Uh... you can use a shotgun, right?"

"Yeah," Carlos said.

"Good," Steve said, handing him one. "Once they start dying the rest will come out to try and help. We take them all out. Once they stop coming, we find the hole, smoke out the queen, and kill her. Any questions?"

"Yeah," Carlos said. "How can the two of us--" His phone began to ring. "Oh, that's Cecil," he said.

Steve winced.

Carlos answered the phone. "Hey, babe. What are-- Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I am. Well, no, I-- Hold on, I wasn't trying to-- Really, Cece, it's just-- Uh-uh. Well, he's going to show me a huge--"

"Perhaps just slightly larger than average," Steve cut in. Of course he wasn't normally one to tiptoe around things that weren't supposed to exist, but he figured that getting his new friend in trouble on their first play date was a good way to ensure that no additional play dates would follow.

"--perhaps just slightly larger than average queen ant. Yes, for science. Well, of course, babe. Yeah, I love you, too. See you later." Carlos hung up.

"I should've known someone would tell him you were with me," Steve said. "So what's the deal? You skipping out early?"

"Hell, no," Carlos said. "I'm gonna see that queen. Uh, if we live, I mean. How well do you think we'll do against a whole colony of perhaps just slightly larger than average ants?"

"We'll do fine," Steve assured. "Remember, if you weren't here I'd be doing the job by myself. Their colonies aren't very big, numbers-wise. Maybe two dozen total."

"Are you sure they're ants?" Carlos asked. "That doesn't sound very ant-like."

"Well, _I don't know, Carlos_ ," Steve said. "They look like ants and they live in a hole, and I'm really only worried about killing them, not why there aren't millions of them swarming my truck. What food source would even sustain that many of them? Kindergarteners, probably. Maybe we should just be _happy_ there aren't more of them."

"I... guess that being perhaps just slightly larger than average makes reproduction more taxing."

"Yeah, that's probably it," Steve said, closing the back of the truck. "Come on, let's go."

***

Steve pulled backwards into the driveway so that they could pull away faster if they needed to. "Look," he said, gesturing toward a lone huge ant, three feet long and foraging along the grass. He rolled down his window and climbed out, plopping the meat on the roof before pulling himself up. "Give me the guns," he said, and Carlos passed them up one at a time before pulling himself up as well. "Ready?" Steve asked.

Carlos patted his pockets to double-check for his extra ammo. "Ready," he said.

Steve unwrapped the meat and lobbed it into the yard. The ants came immediately.

"Holy shit," Carlos said, but Steve was already shooting. Carlos shook himself and began shooting as well. The ants let out piercing screams when the bullets broke through their exoskeletons. "Wish you would've warned me about that," Carlos said, cringing.

"Warned you about what?" Steve asked.

***

By the time the ants stopped coming, the yard was a mess of smoking carcasses.

"So how did you know how to handle this the first time?" Carlos asked.

"Uh... I didn't. They besieged me in my truck and slashed my tires. I threw them my sandwich to buy some time, grabbed a shotgun out of the back, got on the roof, and just shot at them thinking they'd never stop coming and I'd run out of ammo and they'd get to me and tear me apart. Lucky for me, they _did_ stop coming."

"I would've pissed myself," Carlos said, shaking his head.

"I'm not saying that I did that," Steve replied, "but I'm also not saying that I didn't."

"Can I ask what it took for you to add a shotgun to your equipment?" Carlos asked.

"You can ask, but I don't remember," Steve said, hopping down from the truck. "Come on. Time to kill the queen."

"About that," Carlos said, handing the guns down before following. "Any chance we could take her alive? I'd love to run some tests."

Steve stared blankly for a moment, then turned away to open the back of the trunk. "Sure, why not?" he said, setting the guns down and opening a box of tranquilizer darts. He handed one to Carlos, then grabbed a smoke bomb and one of the guns. "Let's find the hole."

"So, uh, no tranq gun?" Carlos asked, eyeing the dart in his hand as they made their way around the house into the backyard.

"No," Steve confirmed. He put his arm out to stop Carlos from walking right into the ant hole.

"Wow," Carlos said. "That's bigger than I expected. I can't imagine the ground is very stable here."

"Well, let's hope," Steve said, taking a few steps back and motioning for Carlos to do the same. "Now, we can't use a tranq gun because the dart won't penetrate her exoskeleton." He tossed the smoke bomb in the hole and backed up some more. "So when she comes out, I'll keep her busy and you'll jam the thing in her eye or something."

"Uh...."

"Or _you_ can keep her busy and _I'll_ jam her in the eye. I'm about ninety-nine percent sure I won't shoot you by mistake. A little less sure that you won't shoot me, but hey, you want a live queen? I'll get you a live queen."

"I... can run tests on a dead queen," Carlos said.

"Glad you see it my way," Steve said, and the moment the queen emerged he shot it through the head.

"Whoa, she's--"

"--perhaps just slightly larger than average," Steve said, lowering his gun.

Carlos glanced around the yard. "So, uh, what do you do with all the bodies?"

"The Sheriff's Secret Police usually get rid of them so as not to leave any evidence of-- I mean, what bodies?"

"Right," Carlos said. "And the hole?"

"What hole?"

"Got it," Carlos said. He approached the queen. "So, uh... do we put her in your truck?"

"Ehh.... I have way too much shit in there. We could maybe tie her to the roof? If we can get her up there. She's heavy."

A car pulled into the driveway next to Steve's truck. Cecil climbed out and glanced around the front yard. "Carlos?" he called, stepping over dead ants.

"Ah, shit," Steve muttered. Of course he'd find out _where_ they were.

"Over here, babe," Carlos called, going around to the front of to meet him. Steve followed reluctantly.

"Carlos, sweetheart, it's so wonderful to see you," Cecil said, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and kissing him. After pulling back from the kiss he glared at Steve over Carlos' shoulder. "It's decidedly _not_ wonderful to see _you_ , Steve Carlsberg."

"Likewise," Steve said with a curt wave.

"What are you doing here, Cece?" Carlos asked.

"Well, I had to make sure you were with Steve Carlsberg by choice and not under duress."

"Babe, what?" Carlos said. "I'm here for science. Honest."

Steve held up four fingers and slowly mouthed, "four science. Honest."

Cecil glared at him, then met Carlos' eyes. "Well... good. I heard about your lab. I guess you had to do science _somehow_ even if it means spending the day with _Steve_."

Steve was more than used to Cecil's debasement, but having been interrupted in the midst of his most positive social interaction in years, he just wasn't in the mood. "Okay, Cecil, this has been fun," he said walking up and putting a hand on Cecil's shoulder to guide him away from Carlos, "but I need to talk to you."

Cecil looked appalled that Steve had touched him, but he allowed himself to be led, just the same. Carlos kept a respectful distance.

"What exactly--"

"Listen, Cecil, your boyfriend really wants to study that perhaps just slightly larger than average queen ant over there, but it just won't fit in my truck. So why don't you make his day and offer to put it in your car?"

Cecil glanced at the queen ant. "Oh.... Yes, of course. Thank you." He turned to Carlos and gestured at the queen. "Sweetheart, do you want me to drive this somewhere for you?"

Carlos brightened. "Oh, would you? That'd be great, Cece."

"Well, you kids have fun," Steve said with a small salute before hurrying to his truck. He _could_ stay long enough to help them load the queen into Cecil's car... but Cecil _could_  have been nicer to him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't get sad when you think about Selena, we can't be friends.


End file.
